


A Problem Shared...

by Ononymous



Series: Undertale Anniversary Requests 2017 [4]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-17 20:03:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12373032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ononymous/pseuds/Ononymous
Summary: Frisk hasn't been able to look at flowers the same way since their time in the Underground.





	A Problem Shared...

**Author's Note:**

> Original Pitch: Frisk sees a flower that reminds them of Asriel

It was funny. Before going to the underground, Frisk never gave much thought to flowers. Now they couldn't stop. A father that cared for them almost as much as he cared for his kingdom didn't help in that regard, but they had even more reasons to consider them.

It was a quiet Saturday, and the countryside was in full bloom. Frisk was in fact following the path that, if they turned right, would lead them into that cave. They were actually tempted by it, but then thought better, so they turned left. No rain to force them to find shelter today. Not for hours at least. Following the path for a while, they eyed a positive riot of colour. It was as if Asgore had visited and spread every seed he owned willy nilly.

Frisk wasn't sure if rainbow would be the right term, as the colours in the field abutting the path were a lot more varied. Red and white and blue and purple and orange and pink and they were all breeds Frisk couldn't hope to identify. Somehow those hours spent with Asgore in his garden never imparted much terminology into their head. The scents were multifaceted and pleasant, though they put them on guard to look for bees. Listening carefully, the only things Frisk could hear was the light breeze and the rustling of the nearby trees. With no telltale buzzing, Frisk decided to venture into the middle of them.

Conveniently there was a patch of grass they could safely sit down on. With everything that had been going on, it had been a while since they had stopped to literally smell the roses. Something Asgore's impromptu classes did manage to impart was an appreciation for the different fragrances. Sniffing deeply, they recognised this one from the orange flower, the particularly sweet one from the small pink flowers and that slightly tangy one from the red flowers. And then they turned around to get a sniff of-

And there it was.

It looked in bad shape. Drooping heavily. Like all the other flowers had crowded it out and it couldn't get any nutrients. But that wasn't what Frisk thought of. Its position was identical to another golden flower once before. And before they could stop themselves they thought of it. Of him.

_I don't understand..._

Screwing up their courage, they carefully looked at where a face might have been. It was blank and unsullied.

_I just can't understand..._

And Frisk moved past that thought, determined not to dwell on it. But for their efforts another memory struck at them.

_Don't you have anything better to do?_

He didn't understand. He couldn't understand. But then he could, at least for a while. And Frisk did have things to do and friends to support, but visiting him wasn't necessarily worse than those things. It all tumbled about in their mind. The problem they had failed to solve.

_I don't want to let go..._

That was the truth. Not that he had lied at all after breaking the barrier. It _would_ break their hearts to glimpse what they couldn't have. Frisk had toyed with telling them anyway, to get the truth out, but with everything that had happened there wasn't time, and now it really did feel like they'd be re-opening an old wound they had no means of closing.

But still, he hadn't wanted to let go. But then he made himself let go.

Frisk had seen through his attempt at pretending it was someone else who did it all. He took ownership of it, not the flower. Pretending they were different was just an attempt to make Frisk feel better about it. But even if he thought that's how it worked, he'd been wrong. They visited him once, out of curiosity. He made a show of being angry and threatening, but the edge that he once had was gone. Frisk just toughed it out until he went quiet again. He made no show of apologies for what he did, as he couldn't really feel bad for it, but his instincts hadn't shifted that much after breaking the barrier. If anything he was more at peace. If Frisk had done anything, they helped him let go of the past. That was something. Not that their current situation was all sunshine, or even much sunshine at all but it was progress. Then they had loaded, feeling bad they'd stirred the hornet's nest for no good reason.

It gnawed at them. Their new life with new friends and new parents helped dull it, but it lingered. And resetting would do no good. Too many good things had already been set up to justify giving a child the same few hours of happiness. The scales grew heavier every day. Odds are most of it would happen again, but they couldn't be sure. And without a solution it was pointless.

Frisk suddenly made a decision. They had to help _something_ today...

* * *

Asgore had been in the garden, so didn't hear the knocks right away. When he did he hurried though his house and opened the door.

"Frisk! This is a surprise."

"Can you help me?"

He eyed what they were carrying. A large golden flower, in a bad way, soil still clumped around the roots.

"I see. Through here."

Fifteen minutes later the flower rested in a new pot. Still looking bad, but in an environment free of competition, it should hopefully thrive. Asgore was serving tea.

"In a field of other flowers? By itself? That is rather unusual, Frisk. Those flowers are notorious for growing in clumps together. I mean, you remember my throne room, yes?"

Frisk nodded.

"I must say, I've grown even more fond of them than before."

"Really?"

"Mmm. I always think of them when the barrier broke. When my duty was discharged."

Frisk looked at their tea, hoping he wouldn't launch into how it was all down to them. The truth was on the tip of their tongue and they did not need temptation to unleash it. Fortunately he seemed to relent before going down that path.

"I should visit this field you mentioned. You say it's near the far side of Mount Ebott? That should be interesting. There may be some wildflowers that would complement what I already have."

"Yeah," said Frisk without much enthusiasm, "I think you'd enjoy it there. It's actually not far from the cave where I fell into the Underground and near-"

They forced themselves to stop, but it was the wrong move. Asgore might have fallen for a change in subject, but the abrupt silence forced him to ponder the words that preceded it.

"Child... is something wrong?"

"No. It's a beautiful day-"

"Frisk," his voice was stern, "you are speaking to a monster who focused on beautiful days for a _very_ long time. I know the ugly parts of such days."

"Look, it's fine. Everything's the same today as it was yesterday."

"So this happened the day before yesterday, then?"

"No, it was the same then too."

"Frisk. Please."

Their determination cracked at his plea. They wondered if Chara had ever behaved like this, before their plan. Had Asgore made the connection after the fact, and was seeing history repeating itself?

"I... I can't. I promised..."

"I made a promise once. If I recall, you helped me break it. And we're all the better for it."

"Not like this. It'll only hurt you, you can't help h-"

In trying to stop it slipping out, they glanced at the flower. Asgore caught it.

"Frisk... I hurt every day. You should know that. I will carry that pain for the rest of my life, no matter how it improves or how monsters fare. I brought the pain on myself, so I bear it without complaint. Whatever has upset you, I can bear it as well. A child should not have to cling on to secrets by themselves. And if it turns out you are correct, that I cannot help, then I shall suffer whatever pain it brings. I'm used to it."

Frisk's eyes darted from Asgore to the flower and back. "You mean it?"

"I promise."

"I thought you said it was okay to break promises."

Asgore laughed gently. "Well it depends. For now, I think it's better to honour this one."

The hand was outstretched, desperate for Frisk to grab it. It was how he must have felt every time Frisk reached out to him in the Ruins. Funny how the tables could turn like that. And the giant before them, with that small smile, with eyes that always had a tinge of sadness in them. Maybe he could bear it. But what if he told Toriel? Could she bear it? Or Alphys, forced to revisit her past mistakes one final time? There was bound to be pain they'd have to carry in their life. Maybe they should get the practice in.

But then... what if he thought of something? What if anyone he told thought of something?

They looked over at the flower again for a while, and Asgore followed their gaze. Determination filled them anew. Maybe... just maybe...

The souls of monsters are made of love, hope and compassion. Asgore was offering more love and compassion than any one monster could normally display. Maybe Frisk could meet him halfway and provide the hope.

"...alright. I'll tell you."

Asgore did not look pleased or relieved at this. If anything he was steeling himself. He really was trying to honour the promise. Make himself ready to take whatever Frisk had to throw at him. Or so he thought.

"The barrier... I never broke it."

His face remained fixed, though his eyes obviously showed interest at this confession. He looked intently around his kitchen, then smiled.

"Funny. I've never been in this part of the Underground before. It is surprisingly bright."

Frisk returned his smile. "Well, you're right, the barrier was broken. But not by me."

He returned to steeling himself. "Well then, who did?"

"...Asriel."

The teacup he was holding clattered loudly, but that was the only thing which betrayed his shock. The steady look on his face empowered Frisk's own determination, and the story began with this ending. How he had broken the barrier, and why. What doing so meant for him. What he became as a result of the experiments, and had returned to being after his sacrifice. Where he was now and what he was probably doing. The only thing Frisk withheld was the buttercups. There was more than enough to digest without having to revisit Chara.

"...and I agreed with him at the time. He didn't want to break your hearts. But... I've gone and done that anyway. I'm sorry."

With Frisk finished, Asgore remained as stoic as ever. Then he lifted his teacup to his face, and proceeded to spill the tea on his beard and shirt.

"Oh," he said.

Frisk looked down at their own barely touched tea. The pressures of the secret were definitely lighter now, though it was replaced with guilt for what they had just inflicted on the man across the table. And all to no avail. That hope they'd deluded themselves with was perhaps the cruellest thing they could have done.

So caught up were they in this train of thought, they never heard a chair scrape. Next thing they knew, they were picked up by their father, and wrapped in the tightest hug he'd ever given. His claws poked their back slightly, and his breathing was unsteady. They could feel the damp patch on his shirt.

"Thank you, Frisk... Thank you for breaking my heart."

The naked sorrow in his voice, contrasted with the compassion the hug represented... It filled Frisk with hope.

**Author's Note:**

> Original Pastebin Version: https://pastebin.com/GucL4ZsS
> 
> Let me know what you think, and thanks for reading!


End file.
